


Take A Chance; You Never Know What Might Happen

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Berserkers, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Confessions, Derek Nearly Dies, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Full Moon, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Rough Kissing, Season 4 Finale, Season/Series 04, Unrequited Love, Werewolf Shifts, Werewolves, season 4 canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Scott and Kira have been taken and the pack are setting out to get them back, but Stiles is uneasy, he has a feeling that something will go wrong and he might as well take a chance and do something at least once before he dies: kiss Derek.





	Take A Chance; You Never Know What Might Happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveyProphet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyProphet/gifts).



> For my dear friend, LoveyProphet (loveyprophet.tumblr.com) ♥

Stiles stood still, listening to everyone bicker, voices echoing about the hollow warehouse as they tried to organise who was going to drive which cars. In the end, Braeden was elected as the driver of the prisoner transport van she had acquired; if Liam was coming with them, no one was going to take a chance when the full moon rose. Malia and Liam stood by the back of the van, and Peter and Derek stood by Derek's silver four-wheel-drive.

Stiles left the group, crossing across the dusty concrete floor to the small store room. He began to dig though the bags of supplies, gathering water, food, blankets, medical supplies and anything else they may need before shoving it all in a large pack.

His mind was reeling with thoughts, his gut twisting nauseatingly as he couldn't help but think of every painful situation Scott and Kira could be in.

“Need a hand?” a quiet voice asked from the doorway, startling Stiles.

He spun around and looked at the man who lingered in the door to the supply room. He slouched against the wooden frame, his glittering aventurine eyes focused on Stiles. The depths of his eyes shifted from hazel to jade green as they caught the light, unable to hide the worry that darkened his eyes. His tanned skin seemed to glow against the dark fabric of his leather jacket and dark Henley. His soft whiskers framed his firm jaw and his eyebrows were raised quizzically.

“I've got this,” Stiles muttered, turning back to the bags he was stuffing supplies into.

“Stiles,” Derek started slowly.

“I'm fine,” Stiles interrupted, knowing what Derek was about to say. “I just want to save Scott.”

“He's going to be okay, you know that, right?”

“No, Derek, I don't know that,” Stiles snapped, turning on Derek and glaring at him.

Stiles paused, his jaw tense with anger and his eyes filling with warm tears.

He turned away, bowed his head and let out a dejected sigh.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his choice broken and raspy.

Derek stepped into the supply room, the door falling shut behind him. He stepped over to Stiles' side, setting a hand on the young man's shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered, craning his neck to look Stiles in the eye. “I know you're scared about losing your best friend, but Scott's going to be okay. And Kira is too.”

Stiles glanced up and met Derek’s gaze, watching as his pale irises were consumed with black and he looked at Stiles lovingly.

Stiles swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, feeling his heart beat faster as it slammed against his ribs; his ribs aching as his limbs grew stiff, yearning to move.

He took a step closer, closing the space between them as he tilted his head and brought their lips together. He stood still, stiff and unsure what to do. His hands stayed by his side and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Derek to react.

Derek froze. He blinked, stunned.

Stiles' lips were so soft and his heart pounded against his chest as he ached to the teen’s back, but he didn't. He clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into the skin of his hands as instinct and lust clouded his mind. He fought for control; he couldn't risk hurting Stiles, physically or emotionally.

He let out a sigh, letting his lips weaken as he leant forward to return the kiss, but Stiles pulled back.

He blinked open his eyes, staring up at Derek with dark eyes filled with pain. He let out a soft sigh and turned away. He bowed his head, swallowing hard and looking down in shame.

“I'm sorry,” he rasped. “I just wanted to do that at least once before I die.”

Without another word, he grabbed the bag of supplies and stormed out of the room leaving Derek standing alone in the storage room, shocked.

Derek watched him go, his heart aching and his gut twisting with guilt and regret.

He should have kissed him back.

He should have told Stiles the truth, about how he felt about him.

The door swung shut behind him, the latch falling into place with a quiet click.

Derek unfurled his hands, looking down at the angry red marks that dug into the palm of his hands. He licked his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kiss. He let out a heavy sigh, grabbed two large packs of bottled water and headed out to join the others.

“Derek,” Braeden called from across the warehouse floor. “Jump in the back with Liam; we may need your help if he shifts.”

Derek nodded, tossing one of the packets of water into the back of Stiles' Jeep before crossing over to the van.

Stiles held the back doors open, his eyes downcast as Derek passed; not daring to meet his gaze.

Derek climbed into the back of the van, setting the water aside and sitting down on the bench seat. He leant back against the metal panelling of the can, looking across at Liam and watching as the boy shifted nervously in his seat, drawing in deep breaths as he tried to calm himself.

“I'll ride with Derek and Liam,” Stiles offered. “I'm used to dealing with out of control teen wolves.” He cast a worried glance at Malia. “Are you okay riding with Peter?”

“I'll be okay. After all, he's my father,” Malia replied. “Maybe we can do some bonding.”

“No bonding,” Stiles objected. “Just play the radio, and play it loud. Don't listen to anything he says, okay?”

Malia nodded.

Stiles climbed into the back of the car with him, pulling the doors shut and sitting down next to him on the bench. He braced his feet against the far wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and turning his face away to look out the small window in the back doors.

There was a quiet rumble as the engine started up.

Stiles grabbed a hold of one of the chains that hung from the wall, keeping himself upright as the van bounced out of the warehouse and down the dusty roads.

“Stiles,” Derek started slowly, keeping his voice low and quiet as he looked at the young man that sat beside him.

“Just forget it,” Stiles muttered, his eyes focused on the road that disappeared behind them. He watched the trees and rocks that rolled by as they left the familiar roads of Beacon Hills.

Derek bowed his head, feeling guilt flood his body as they drove on in silence.

He glanced over at Stiles from time to time, watching as the fading light played across his pale skin and made his moles dance like the constellations that drift across the night sky.

The light of day faded to dusk and the blue sky streaked with vibrant bursts of colour: orange, purple, pink and red, Derek leant forward in his seat. He picked up the cool metal handcuffs that were secured to a metal bar that ran along the underside of the bench. He looped the cuffs around Liam’s wrists and locked them into place.

“How’s that?” he asked, his voice soft as he looked up at the teen.

Liam lifted his arms, straining against the cuffs. The metal chains rattled against the bench, his hands shaking as he tested the length. He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze as he nodded.

“Here. I brought something to help you,” Derek said softly, digging into his pocket and pulling out a small triskelion disk. He held it before himself, looking down at the old grey disk. “This has been in my family for centuries. It's a very powerful supernatural talisman. We used to use this to teach betas control on the full moon.”

Stiles looked down at the old talisman, frowning in confusion as he saw through Derek’s bluff.

Derek glanced over his shoulder at Stiles, looking for reinforcement. He raised his brow as if prompting Stiles to say something.

Stiles’ eyebrows quirked upwards.

Derek looked at him pleadingly, nodding towards Liam.

“Yes, it’s powerful,” Stiles said, his voice dry and quiet. He cleared his throat and turned to look at Liam, trying to seem more believable as he said, “Very powerful.”

Derek leant forward and set the carved disk in Liam’s palm.

The boy curled his fingers around the disk, running the ball of his thumb across the ridges of the carved triskelion symbol. His eyes glittered in the evening light as he looked down at the talisman.

Derek looked over at Stiles, his dark brown eyes watching Liam with deep concern.

Stiles didn’t look at him. He turned his face away and looked out the window, watching as the light of day began to fade as the full moon rose high into the sky.

Liam began to tremble, beads of glistening sweat forming on his forehead as he eyes darted about. He lunged forward, the chains holding him back as he thrashed about.

Stiles bolted upright, startled.

Derek leant back, pushing his back against the wall and holding his hand against Stiles' chest protectively.

Liam strained against the chains that secured him to the metal bench. He slumped forward, his shoulders rising and falling as he drew in deep breaths.

His jagged claws scratched against the surface of the talisman in his hold.

“Whatever you’re going to teach me…” Liam whispered. He looked up and met Derek’s gaze, his eyes wide with fear as they lit up; glowing a vibrant yellow. His jaw tensed as he drew breath between his gritted teeth and hissed, “I think you’d better start.”

Liam cried out in pain, the metal cuffs digging into his wrists. The chains groaned under the stain as he thrashed about.

The van swerved, tossing Stiles and Derek about in the back.

“Derek?” Braeden called over her shoulder, fighting to correct the van.

“Keep going,” he insisted.

Liam settled for a second, trembling violently as glistening sweat dripped down his face.

Stiles' eyes darted from the chains to Derek, swallowing hard against the rising lump in his throat as his heart beat against his ribs.

“Liam,” Derek said, his voice quiet but firm. “We have a mantra we use. Repeat it and focus on the words, like meditating; you say the words until you feel control coming back to you.”

“Okay,” Liam agreed.

He winced in pain, whipping his head about and growling as the moonlight overcame him. He cried out in pain, the chains clattering against the metal, screeching and groaning as they struggled to hold the boy back.

Liam’s voice was full of pain and desperation as he asked, “What are the words?”

 “Look at the triskelion, you see the symbol?” Derek said, fighting the urgency in his voice. “The tattoo on my back is the same thing. Each spiral means something.”

“Alpha, Beta, Omega,” Stiles chipped in.

Derek kept his eyes focused on Liam as he explained, “It represents the idea that we can always rise to one and fall back to another. Betas can become Alphas.”

“Alphas can become Betas,” Stiles added.

“Can Alphas become Omegas?” Liam asked, voice trembling.

Derek paused for a moment. He swallowed hard and nodded.

“All you have to do is say the three words and with each one you tell yourself you are getting calmer, you are in control,” Derek encouraged. “Go ahead.”

“Alpha-beta-”

“Slower,” Derek insisted, his voice firm.

Liam drew in a deep breath, rocking back and forth as he tried to fight instinct. “Alpha, Beta, Omega,” he recited, wincing and twitching as the light of the moon lit his face. “Alpha, Beta, Omega.”

“Good,” Derek said. “Now sat it again, and remind yourself that with every time you are getting calmer.”

“Alpha… Beta…” Liam growled, the husky echo of a wolf’s bark deepening his voice. “Omega.”

He screwed his face up in pain, frustrated as he struggled against the transformation but lost; his brow furrowed in a glare, his eyes darkened with rage, and his lips pulled back in a snarl to reveal his sharpened teeth.

Liam let out a fierce growl and thrashed about.

“Uh,” Stiles pushed his back up against the door, pulling his legs up onto the bench as he swallowed hard and said, “Derek, I don’t think that powerful talisman self-control is working.”

“Say it again,” Derek insisted.

Liam howled, his eyes glowing with rage and his lips pulled back in a snarl as he exposed his sharp fans.

“Liam, say it again,” Derek shouted.

Liam thrashed about, the van rocking and swerving under the force of his violent movements.

There was a loud crash as one handcuffs broke.

Stiles leapt forward, grabbing Derek’s shoulder and pushing him back against the was off the van as Liam slashed at him.

Derek’s eyes flew open wide. He caught Liam’s arm, the teen’s claws reaching for his throat. He tightened his jaw as he strained against Liam's strength.

Stiles grabbed Liam's forearm and fighting to pull the teen away from Derek.

“Derek?” Braeden called from the front seat.

“I think we need to go a little faster,” Stiles shouted back to her.

Derek held his composure, returning Liam’s glare with his own as he growled, “Liam, focus!”

“I don’t think ‘Alpha, Beta, Omega’ is resonating with him,” Stiles pointed out.

There was another loud crash as the handcuffs holding his other arm shattered.

Stiles shoved Liam's shoulder back against the wall of the van, leaning back as he tried to avoid the jagged claws that slashed at him.

“Well, do you know any other mantras?” Derek snapped, frustrated as he fought off Liam.

Stiles thought for a question, his mind reeling. His eyes flew open wide and he looked up at the shifting beta.

“Liam,” he called, trying to get his attention. “Liam, what three things cannot long be hidden?”

Liam lunged forward, grabbing Derek by his throat. He pinned the man back against the wall of the van, his grip tight and his eyes focused on his prey as instinctual rage drove him forward.

Derek’s eyes flew open wide, his lips quivering as he gasped for air, but Liam’s grip didn’t waver.

“Liam!” Stiles shouted. “Look at me.”

The boy's glowing eyes snapped towards him.

“What three things cannot long be hidden?” Stiles asked again, his voice firm.

“Three things...” the beta muttered, trying to focus. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. “The sun… the moon… the truth,” he recited, his voice broken as he heaved in deep breaths.

“That's it,” Stiles said encouragingly, his voice calm and soothing. “Sat it again.”

Liam’s eyes faded back to their normal hue, his arm shaking as he pulled it away from Derek’s throat.

Derek drew in a deep breath, slumping against the great that divided the van.

Stiles held his shoulder with one hand, the other holding Liam back as the teen began to relax, sitting back against the wall of the van and drawing in deep breaths. His voice was quiet as he repeated, “The sun, the moon, the truth.”

“Derek?” Braeden called from the front of the van.

“We're okay” he answered.

Stiles gently patted Derek’s shoulder and sat back.

Liam bowed his head, his teeth dull and the glow of his eyes fading.

“The sun, the moon, the truth,” Liam recited quietly, his breathing steadying and his humanity taking over once again.

The van pulled up before La Iglesia, the old stone church standing tall against the dark sky. The rumbling engines died away into the quiet of the night.

After a moment, he glanced up at Stiles and Derek, looking at them with wide eyes full of shock and gratitude.

“I did it,” he gasped. “I can't believe it actually worked. For a moment there, I was sure I'd tear you two apart.”

Stiles let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Yeah, well that would have made for an awkward ride home,” he teased. “So, thanks.”

“Do you think you can bring that level of control into La Iglesia?” Derek asked.

Liam held out his hand, flicking his fingers out. Jagged claws protruded from the tips of his fingers as he smirked.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile with pride. “I think we might be able to do this.”

Derek nodded. He leant across the cabin and pushed open the small side door, ducking his head as he stepped over.

From inside the van, Stiles heard a low growl and looked up to see the ivory bone of a skull charging towards them.

The Berserker grabbed Derek by the front of his shirt and hauled him out of the van.

He hit the ground with a painful thud, the sand and dirt tearing at his skin as he rolled across the dusty courtyard.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted after him.

The Berserker grabbed the man by the front of his jacket, hurling him across the courtyard until his back collided with the broken stone wall in the courtyard.

Derek cried out in pain, tears welling in his eyes as searing pain flooded his body from where the jagged stone dug into his back.

The Berserker loomed over him, backlit by the headlights of the cars and the swirling mist that rolled through the valley.  The Berserker raised their arms high and slammed their fists down on Derek's chest.

Derek let out a strangled gasp, the gut-twisting sound of breaking bones echoing throughout the courtyard as his ribs shattered beneath the blow.

The world around him falling silent, the only sound he could hear was the muffled voices of the others and the thin wisps of breath that played across his lips.

The jagged stone impaled him, tearing through his flesh.

The fabric of his shirt was soaked by the blood that gushed from his wounds.

His eyes grew misty, the pale depths darkened and unfocused as he looked up at the Berserker, watching as they raised his arms high above their head again and slammed his fists down on Derek's chest.

He choked on his breath, wheezing as a stream of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he watched the creature raise his arm, clenching his fist. His eyes were fixed on the ivory dagger-like bone that jutted out from the Berserker's gauntlet.

His mind screamed at him to fight, to run away, but he lay still, watching as the creature swung their arm, the bone tearing through his gut.

Derek's lips trembled as he fell weakly against the broken stone wall.

He could smell his blood, could hear each drop hit the ground and stirred a cloud of dust. He heard the distant sound of gunfire and someone calling his name but his eyes were focused on Stiles, watching as he stumbled out of the back of the van, his eyes wide with fear. He stared at Derek, the dark depths of his eyes swirling with heartbreak as he stood, frozen in place.

“Just find him,” Derek said, his lips smeared with blood. “I'll be right behind you.”

No one moved.

“Go!” he shouted.

The others turned and ran towards the church, but Stiles hesitated.

Stiles swallowed hard, his mouth dry as he fought back the tears that shimmered as they filled his eyes. His heart slammed against his ribs as he tore his eyes away from Derek. He forced his legs to move, stumbling slightly as he took a step towards the stone arch of the open church door.

He stopped, his chest aching as he looked back over his shoulder at Derek.

“Hey,” Derek whispered. “Save him.”

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded.

He forced himself to look way, kicking up his heels and stirring the dust as he ran over to the church entrance. He paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder at Derek as the man’s body weakened, lying limp against the stone.

He heard Braeden call Derek’s name and watched as his eyes fluttered shut and his chest fell still.

Stiles stumbled into the church, fighting back his tears as he heaved in deep breaths. He felt his heart ache as a strange hollowness settled in his chest.

Everything else just happened so fast.

He has glimpses of memories; a phone call from his dad, Scott standing before them as a Berserker, his best friend’s eyes glowing as he tore the skull from his face and freed himself, Peter livid with rage as he lashed out and attacked them. And he remembered walking out of the church and into the light of day, his eyes falling on the figure across the courtyard. He watched as the man stepped around the back of his four-wheel-drive, turning to face them.

Stiles met his gaze, watching as the aventurine depths of his eyes caught the light.

Derek.

A sweet smile lifting the corners of the man’s lips.

But Stiles didn't smile back. He stared in confusion, scared to blink in case the image disappeared. He was well aware of the fact that Scott was looking at him with concern, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Derek.

Everything after that seemed like a waking dream; no difference between reality and nightmares.

Scott had tried many times to tell him it was true, tried for months to make Stiles believe that Derek was alive; that he hadn't died but all Stiles could see was Derek slumped against the stone, his blood dripping into the dirt and his body falling still; lifeless.

Every time he closed his eyes, he dreamed he would see Derek standing in the golden glow of the morning’s sun, smiling at him.

Time passed and Stiles tried to fit back into his normal life: school, homework, lacrosse.

Stiles sat at his desk, surrounded by piles of books and staring blankly at the blinking cursor on his computer, willing himself to write the essay that was due next week.

The doorbell rang, startling him.

He let out a heavy sigh and pushed his chair back, dragging his feet downstairs and to the front door.

He opened the door, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at the man who stood on the doorstep, fidgeting nervously as his glittering aventurine eyes met Stiles'.

The depths of his eyes shifted from hazel to jade green as they caught the light and his tanned skin seemed to glow against the dark fabric of his leather jacket. His soft whiskers framed his firm jaw, his lips trembling around unspoken words as he looked at Stiles.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered breathlessly.

Derek cupped Stiles' face in his hand and pulled him close, crushing their mouths together.

Bursts of light blinded him as Stiles stumbled backwards, his heart racing. He caught a hold of Derek's jacket, feeling the smooth, worn leather beneath his hand.

This is real, he told himself.

Derek caught him, wrapping one arm around Stiles' waist as he shoved the door shut behind him.

They stumbled backwards until Stiles' back collided with the wall.

He let out a muffled gasp, feeling Derek press his weight against his body; pinning his hips back against the plaster.

Derek tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

Stiles sighed in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair, pulling soft tufts into his fist as the other hand running down the man’s shoulder, bicep and back. He wanted to feel every inch of skin, wanted to make sure this was real.

His lungs burnt so much he wanted to cry but he desperately didn’t want to let go.

He fell weakly into Derek’s arms.

Derek broke away from the kiss, both of them gasping for air.

“Sorry,” Derek whispered between broken breaths. “I should have told you how I felt months ago. I should have kissed you back.”

Stiles looked at him, his eyes wide with shock as he stared into the swirling depths of jade.

“I don't ever want to let a chance like that pass me by again,” Derek admitted.

“Kiss me,” Stiles muttered.

Derek blinked, stunned. He let out a small sigh of relief and leant in close. He cupped Stiles’ cheek tilting his head and bringing their lips together again, more tenderly this time.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped and he relaxed in Derek's hold. His eyes fluttered shut as he looped his arms around Derek’s neck, desperately clinging to his jacket.

Derek drew back, resting his forehead against Stiles' as he licked his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of Twizzlers and cola. He couldn't help but smile as he looked down at Stiles’ euphoric expression, watching him case after his Derek’s lips.

Derek chuckled against his mouth as he brought their lips back together again in a chaste kiss.

“I'd better not be dreaming,” Stiles blurted out.

“No, this is real,” Derek promised.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked.

He kissed him lightly, drawing back to whisper, “I can pinch you if you want.”

When Stiles didn't answer, Derek gently pinched Stiles' thigh, making him yelp.

“Told you,” Derek whispered, a mischievous grin playing across his lips.

Stiles chuckled, a sense of relief washing over him. He pulled Derek closer and brought their mouths together again, melting into the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
